


Remembering Fire

by opalmatrix



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Captivity, First Time, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo finds their prisoner, Hakkai Cho,  puzzling —  to say the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembering Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct sequel to [Mission: Interrupted](http://archiveofourown.org/works/995567)" so you should read that first. Written for Week 2 of [**weissvsaiyuki**](http://weissvsaiyuki.livejournal.com/). Prompt: _"Haven't We Met Before?" — Forces conspire to keep your OTP apart, but love conquers all. (Or does it?)_  
>  amnesia, reincarnation ... . Beta by **[smillaraaq](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smillaraaq/)**

The guy — Hakkai Cho — was sitting cross-legged on the air mattress in the corner of what had been an old movie star's wardrobe room, reading a book. Gojyo would have gone squirrelly already, sitting in this bare, tiny room for two days with nothing to do but read.

And that wasn't even going into the bicycle cable lock circling Cho's ankle, chaining him to the radiator.

Cho looked up even before Gojyo said anything. He always did: he was a really alert son of a bitch. Gojyo was amazed that he'd ever got the drop on Cho, the other night. "More books for me? Or has your employer finally become tired of keeping me around?"

_Are you going to kill me now?_ That was what Cho really meant. The guy had a death wish: he kept bringing it up. Mr. Maoh and Jien were actually trying to figure out how exactly to keep him alive without getting Lirin into a more dangerous situation than she was already, but Cho couldn't seem to get a handle on that. Gojyo put the three books he'd picked out from the dusty library onto the floor just within Cho's reach if he crawled forward. "Yeah, books. And actually, we though maybe you'd like a shower."

"I would," said Cho, after a minute. "Are you sure that's safe?"

Cho always brought that up, too. They'd nailed the window of the hall bathroom shut, and Gojyo had installed a new lock that locked on the outside of its door. They knew Cho could get through the window, but it would make a lot of noise. Still, Cho always asked the same question whenever one of them took him for a toilet break. 

Gojyo shrugged and then came over and unlocked the cable from the radiator, squatting down cautiously so he could see Cho clearly out of the corners of his eyes, as he always did. There had been no sign that Cho ever actually meant to escape, but he seemed to want Gojyo to act as if he would. It was sensible, anyway.

Cho waited until Gojyo was standing again. Then he put down his book and looked at the new ones for a moment. " _A Town Like Alice_. _Escape from Colditz_ ," he read, from the spines. "Oh – _Under Milk Wood_! I always meant to read that. Thank you, Mr. Sha." He stood up slowly, stretching. He was all bones and angles, frail-looking, but Gojyo knew how strong he really was.

When they got to the bathroom, Cho waited for Gojyo to leave, as he always did, but Gojyo shook his head. "Nope. Sorry: gotta stay. With the shower goin', it would too easy for you to get out."

"Oh dear," said Cho, mildly. "I guess you're right. Well, it's no worse than a school locker room, I suppose." He started to strip. Gojyo lounged against the door, not really looking at him, until something caught his eye: a long, jagged scar across Cho's belly. Cho noticed his glance and raised his eyebrows.

"Wasn't … wasn't that bigger?" asked Gojyo, slowly.

"No, not really," said Cho, after a moment, looking puzzled. "It's from … an accident. It's paler than it used to be, of course."

What the hell? thought Gojyo, but the image remained in his mind's eye: the same pale, taut abdomen, with a hugely ragged fresh scar that made this one look like a bad paper cut. He grimaced and shook his head, then handed Cho a clean towel and a washrag. He never used a washcloth himself, but Yaone had said to give one to Cho. "Doesn't matter. Go on, get washed."

Cho glanced at the bath products — Gojyo's favorite conditioning shampoo, the bar of ordinary, unscented soap. He put his glasses on the edge of the sink and climbed into the tub, sliding the curtain across. It was translucent white vinyl, and Gojyo could see Cho's silhouette as he turned on the water, adjusted the old-style hot and cold water taps, turned on the shower spray, and started to lather up. He meant to turn away, give the man what privacy he could, but his eyes kept sliding back. 

You like girls, dude, he told himself firmly. And if you were going after some guy, why would it be Ms. Koushou's hired gun?

After what seemed like an awfully long time, Cho's angular shadow stopped moving about like something out of a nearly forgotten wet dream and he shut the water off, wrapping the towel around himself and pulling the curtain back. His thick, unruly dark hair was slicked back with water, and as he mopped his streaming face and reached for his glasses, Gojyo's gut clenched and turned over. The same man, stepping out of a bath, reaching for his glasses … the bath was too small, his hair was too short, there was no rubber duck. Still, he had seen this before.

He stepped forward. "Fuck, I know you!"

Cho stared, his glasses fogged. Whatever he half-saw made his pretty face look like Gojyo felt. "I … who are you, again?"

"Told you: Gojyo Sha."

"I don't think that was the name," Cho whispered, and he put one damp hand on Gojyo's shoulder. The water made a cool spot on Gojyo's shirt, but Gojyo's skin felt flushed with heat there. For one moment he remembered that he was supposed to be treating Cho as an escape risk, but there was no point worrying about that: he was never going to let this man go again. He slid one arm around Cho's narrow, bony shoulders and gently slid his glasses down with the other hand, looking into Cho's strange green eyes. That was wrong, and yet he knew he'd seen those eyes before.

"You can call me what you want," he said, and his own voice sounded strange to his own ears, unusually husky and intimate.

Cho blinked and pulled Gojyo closer, and then he kissed him, gently at first. That was sweet, but then he kissed Gojyo again, using his tongue and his sharp teeth, and that was hot as hell. Gojyo tightened his arm, the towel fell, and Cho started working at the buttons of Gojyo's increasingly wet shirt. "This has to come off," he said, firmly, and his voice was strange, too: commanding in a way that drove straight through Gojyo's heart and down into his dick. He could feel Cho's stiffening length pressed into his hip, catching on his belt, and he started to undo his pants with his free hand.

Jien and his boss are going to be pissed as hell, he thought, and then he gave himself up to the strangely familiar fire.

 


End file.
